


Cuddling is Not a Superpower

by somanyopentabs



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Banter, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Pillow Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-03
Updated: 2012-06-03
Packaged: 2017-11-06 17:27:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/421458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somanyopentabs/pseuds/somanyopentabs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which there is pillow talk, and pillows and sheets are not always used for their intended purposes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cuddling is Not a Superpower

“I love this bed,” Clint confessed, stretching his muscular limbs out over it like he was about to make snow angels. He was wearing only a pair of blue boxers and a smile.

“I know. You say that every night.” Bruce sat down next to him and nudged Clint until he moved over to make room for him.

“I just love bed, in general,” Clint expounded on his original thought, nuzzling his face into Bruce’s chest philosophically. “If I were a real superhero that would be my power: to bring beds into existence whenever I wanted them.”

“You are a superhero,” Bruce said, and there was no flattery there, but rather stating what he knew to be a point of fact.

“I mean, if I had actual powers. Unless you’re counting my powers of seduction?” Clint said, waggling his eyebrows and grinning up at him before stealing a quick kiss.

“Powers of seduction? As I recall, you lurked around my lab space for weeks, which I thought was some kind of surveillance, actually, and then when you finally asked me out, you brought along Thor and Natasha, and I had no idea it was supposed to be a date until Thor got bored at the bar and yelled at us to kiss.”

“He is a _horrible_ wingman,” Clint said, sitting up to straddle Bruce’s lap and play with his hair.

Bruce sighed fondly. “Don’t lie, you asked him to say something. I know you did.”

“Only because Natasha refused to play matchmaker!”

Bruce laughed, tugging at Clint’s arms until they were close enough to kiss again, soft and slow. Bruce was both surprised and pleased, that they could kiss like this for hours, touching and just reveling in each other’s body warmth. Sure, Clint had played up his stoic image when they’d first gotten together, never staying the night, always kissing with definite intent and wearing them both out so much with his sexual energy that Bruce didn’t question it. But soon enough, little by little, Clint had let that image go by the wayside. Clint was a closet romantic, and deeply playful.

Clint pulled away just a little, brushing his lips against Bruce’s cheek. He sat back, then, picking up Bruce’s hands and intertwining their fingers.

“So, no powers of seduction then. Which brings me back to my original point.”

“You had a point?” Bruce quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Shush, you. I had a point. A good one, too.”

“Which was...?”

“That I’d be a complete boss if I had superpowers. Come on, Bruce. Try to keep up.”

Bruce rolled his eyes.

“I’d also need a new suit, of course,” Clint continued thoughtfully. “I could totally pull off a cape. What do you think?”

“A cape? That’s just asking for trouble.” Bruce settled back against the pillows, but Clint released Bruce’s hands and quickly bounded off the bed, dragging one of the purple sheets with him. He wasted no time in draping it dramatically around his shoulders and striking a pose.

“See? Observe, the cape and I; we are one,” Clint said theatrically. “But seriously, what do you think?”

“I think you’re a little underdressed for battle.” 

Clint’s smirk was full of mischief. “Aw, I’m just taking a page out of your book, baby.”

Bruce threw a pillow at him, and Clint used that as an opportunity to use his makeshift cape as a shield and deflect it before sashaying across the room. “Your pillows are no match for the power of the great and powerful Hawkeye.”

“Ah, but I thought you were Captain Bed Sheets,” Bruce answered, playing along.

“Captain of _your_ bed sheets, maybe,” Clint said, waggling his eyebrows.

Bruce groaned. “Clint, that was terrible. No word play in the bedroom.”

Clint took that opportunity to flop down on the mattress beside Bruce and then roll half on top of him again. “But you love it, really.”

“I’d love to go to sleep.”

Clint found Bruce’s earlobe with his mouth and nibbled lightly. “You wanna sleep already? Aren’t I entertaining enough?”

“You certainly are a distraction,” Bruce conceded.

Clint stifled a yawn and wriggled against Bruce’s side, trying to get comfortable.

“See, you’re tired too,” Bruce pointed out rationally.

Clint blew a raspberry against Bruce’s belly and laughed as Bruce shoved him away.

“You complete and utter brat,” Bruce scolded him fondly as Clint looked up at him with his best imitation of puppy eyes. He knew he wasn’t very good at it. His blue eyes were too sharp for the look—Bruce won at ‘puppy eyes’ every time.

Clint gracefully snuck off the bed and retrieved the sheet that he’d left crumpled on the floor, wasting no time in snuggling back up with his scientist.

“Dr. Banner,” Clint said, in his most serious voice, “would you do me the great honor of spooning with me?”

“As if you ever stay on your side of the bed anyway,” Bruce said, opening up his arms to accept his bed partner cuddling up against him.

“If I did have superpowers,” Clint said sleepily as Bruce turned out the bedroom lights, “I’d hope they were good ones, so I could always keep you safe.”

Bruce waited until he heard the telltale sound of Clint’s light snoring before pressing a gentle kiss to Clint’s shoulder and whispering, “You already do.”


End file.
